Family
I Forgot His Voice. And Then One Night, I Heard It Again.
I used to think the sound of someone’s voice could never leave you. That even after death, it would echo somewhere in the back of your mind—gentle, stubborn, familiar. I thought memory was enough to preserve it. But I was wrong.
By Azmat Roman ✨7 months ago in Confessions
Whispers from the Grave: My Mother-in-Law's Final Words Changed Everything
I never expected her to speak again. My mother-in-law, Gloria, had been battling cancer for months. The once-vibrant woman who had ruled her home with elegance and a touch of tyranny was now frail, ghostly pale, and tethered to machines in a hospice bed. Her eyes, once sharp and calculating, now fluttered open with a softness I had never seen.
By Azmat Roman ✨7 months ago in Confessions
Lost Love Found: A Beautiful Second Chance Romance
Chapter 1: The Day Everything Changed Sophie and Daniel met when they were sixteen. They were neighbors who became best friends, sharing secrets, dreams, and first love. Everyone in town knew they were perfect for each other. They walked to school together, spent summers by the lake, and talked for hours under the stars.
By Waqar Khan7 months ago in Confessions
Voices from Gaza: Life in a War Zone
Voices from Gaza: Life in a War Zone The sound of drones overhead has become as familiar as the call to prayer in Gaza. For many who live there, especially children, war is not an occasional event — it is a background noise, an uninvited guest in every home, every conversation, every dream. Behind every statistic, every news headline, there is a human being. A child who didn’t sleep. A mother who buried her son. A student who writes poetry by candlelight because the electricity is out again. These are the voices from Gaza — voices that demand to be heard not as numbers, but as people.
By Nazim Ali7 months ago in Confessions
Some Days I Pretend He’s Just at a Friend’s House
It’s been 431 days since I last saw my son. But some days, I pretend he’s just at a friend’s house. I imagine his laughter echoing in someone else’s living room, his sneakers kicked off by the door, his phone left charging on the kitchen counter. I tell myself he’s staying up late playing video games, eating pizza rolls straight from the oven, yelling strategies over a headset. I picture him rolling his eyes when I call to check in. “Mom, I’m fine,” he would say, dragging out the word with teenage disdain, “I’m just at Jason’s.”
By Azmat Roman ✨7 months ago in Confessions
I Found His Toy Under the Couch. I Sat There for Hours.
I Found His Toy Under the Couch. I Sat There for Hours. It was supposed to be a normal Sunday afternoon. The kind where laundry hums in the background, the scent of coffee lingers in the air, and the house feels almost too quiet—comfortably so. But then I knelt to fetch the remote I’d dropped, and my hand touched something small and familiar beneath the couch.
By Azmat Roman ✨7 months ago in Confessions
Grief Doesn’t Have a Timeline. It Has a Voice.
The morning after the funeral, Nora sat in her father’s favorite armchair, still wearing the black dress from the day before. The silence in the house was no longer peaceful—it was a living thing, brushing against her like a cold breeze every time she dared to move.
By Azmat Roman ✨7 months ago in Confessions
When Autumn Brought You Back
Chapter 1: The First Goodbye The last time Emily saw Noah, the park was on fire with autumn colors. Leaves drifted down like golden rain, covering the paths they had walked together since they were fifteen. They were eighteen now, standing under the same oak tree where they’d first kissed. But this time, they were saying goodbye.
By Waqar Khan7 months ago in Confessions
The Secret Addiction I Hid for Years
It’s strange how something can start small—harmless, even—and turn into a storm that quietly takes over your life. My secret addiction wasn’t to alcohol or drugs. There were no empty bottles rolling under the couch or strange white powders in the drawer. What I was addicted to hid behind a screen, behind silence, behind smiles I learned to fake with terrifying skill. For years, no one knew. That was part of the power it had over me.
By Muhammad Asim7 months ago in Confessions
All My Exes Hate Me Part 4: The One Who Almost Showed Up
By Gail F. Published June 2025 · 4 min read I used to think closure meant having a final conversation. Something tidy. One last exchange where we both say what we need to say and walk away better, wiser, cleaner.
By fazilat bibi7 months ago in Confessions
